the glint of
precious marble, the lamps burned softly, all their light seemingly
gathered into the little globe of oil that fed the flame as into some
limpid topaz. Little by little, under my intent gaze, the sculptured
stone grew less coldly white, took on warm ivory tints, became gradually
penetrated by the pallid life of the celestial beings, and over the
marble forms crept the faint transparency of angelic flesh.

'Ah, how fervent and spontaneous were my prayers then! When I absorbed
myself in meditation, I seemed to be walking through the secret paths of
my soul as in a garden of delight, where nightingales sang in the
blossoming trees and turtle-doves cooed beside the running waters of
Grace divine.

'_September 18th._--A day of nameless torture. Something seems to be
forcing me to gather up, to re-adjust, to join together the fragments of
a dream, half of which is being confusedly realised outside of me, and
the other half going on equally confusedly in my own heart. And try as I
will, I cannot succeed in piecing it completely together.

'_September 19th._--Continued torture. Long ago, some one sang to me but
never finished the song. Now some one is taking up the strain at the
point where it broke off, but meanwhile, I have forgotten the beginning.
And my spirit loses itself in vain gropings after the old melody, nor
can it find any pleasure in the new.

'_September 20th._--To-day, after lunch, Andrea Sperelli invited me and
Francesca to come to his room and look at some drawings that had arrived
for him yesterday from Rome.

'It would not be too much to say that an entire Art has passed before
our eyes to-day--an art studied and analysed by the hand of a master
draughtsman. I have never experienced a more intense pleasure.

'The drawings are Sperelli's own work--studies, sketches, notes,
mementos of every gallery in Europe; they are, so to speak, his
breviary, a wonderful breviary in which each of the Old Masters has his
special page, affording a condensed example of his manner, bringing out
the most lofty and original beauties of his work, the _punctum saliens_
of his entire productions. In going through the large collection, not
only have I received a distinct impression of the various schools, the
movements, the influences which have combined to develop the art of
painting in various countries, but I feel that I have had a glimpse into
the spirit, the essential meaning of the art of each individual pain